Picture 2
Michela Walters’s Picture Choice: Both
Title: Misery in Awakening
My life ended when they handed me a flag and a silver star as my sole mementos of losing the love of my life. All my plans, my dreams for a family and a white picket fence were ruined when the Army called my husband to war and brought him back in a casket. It was at that precipice when I spiraled out of control.
My bed was my only comfort for a week straight.
My job at the plant was gone within a month, and I didn’t have the energy to care.
My eviction was completed in a matter of months, leaving me to wander from shelter to shelter, wishing with all my heart the ethereal hand of God would pluck me out of my misery and take me home to my Henry.
Alas, time marched ever forward, never allowing me a moments respite. Now I perpetually sit across from the old ferris wheel on the boardwalk that was once the home of so many of my favorite memories. Only instead of riding in circles with my soul mate, I crouch in a chair, peddling tourists for pennies, food or whatever else someone has to offer a homeless widow like myself. The days feel endless, but the nights whisk away in a flash. For only then, when my mind is clear and quiet do I see my Henry, sitting up in heaven just waiting for me to arrive.
And every day, I wake up to the boot of a policeman, telling me to relinquish my bench or the cold hands of a volunteer telling me the shelter is closing for the day. My mornings are filled with despair that I lived through another night. My only consolation is that I know I will die eventually. And for that, and that alone, I am thankful.
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Michela Walters is a wife, mother and book enthusiast. She is currently attempting her hand at writing her first romantic fiction novella. You can read her other stories on her blog: michelawalters.wordpress.com
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You really pack a lot of intensity in a short space. Very good.
ReplyDeleteHow sad - and, I wonder how many poor widows feel this way. Makes you want to go hug the one you love right then and there.
ReplyDelete